


No Silver Bullets

by OverconfidentFanficWriter



Series: Kingdom of The Dead [2]
Category: RWBY
Genre: Atlas Falls AU, Clover lives so Marrow can confront him after going rogue, Gen, Marrow becomes a Happy Huntress, Post-Apocalypse, Salem never actually arrives AU, this time it's fucking cold, welcome to mad max flurry road, yes huntress female titles aren't bad people
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-02
Updated: 2020-02-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:20:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22377118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OverconfidentFanficWriter/pseuds/OverconfidentFanficWriter
Summary: In the ruins of Atlas, the Happy Huntresses are just doing what they can to hold things together. That is, until an unusual guest arrives, and their newest member Marrow is faced with his past.
Series: Kingdom of The Dead [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1633933
Comments: 4
Kudos: 51





	No Silver Bullets

**Author's Note:**

> I really need to find a beta, so you'll have to excuse any mistakes. I'm barely getting back into writing again, but RWBY has been musing for a while, and this is just short enough for me to actually publish without letting it die halfway.

Marrow combed his tail one more time. Checked the topknot. Took off his jacket, then put it back on, then took it off, then put it back on. Moved the Huntress pin to his lapel, then to his heart, then took it off, then put it back over his heart. Straightened his back. Felt for Fetch, to make sure it was still in position.

 _Can't keep putting this off forever._ He thought. _I should just go for it, jump in. But no. This has to be perfect._

"You don't have to do this, Wags." Joanna said, leaning by the door. "Robyn can talk to him."

"No, I don't have to." Marrow agreed, checking himself in the mirror one last time. "I _need_ to. I owe him that much."

Joanna put her hand on his shoulder. "Just know that, whatever you need, we'll be right outside the door."

Marrow nodded, stiffly, squishing the butterflies in his stomach. He needed to be brave now.

He looked down at the pin. Straightened it. Checked the mirror one last time. 

"I'm ready." He said, finally. "Or at least, as ready as I'll ever be."

Joanna gave a soft, throaty chuckle, then clapped him on the back. "Then let's go."

The "prison" in question didn't deserve the name. For one thing, it wasn't a prison, but an abandoned warehouse with thick enough walls and few enough exits to (sort of) _serve_ as a prison, provided there were enough guards. For another, there was only one occupant, so it was more of an oversize cell than anything else. 

As they walked over in the snow, passing the drifts that covered bodies and cars, Marrow rehearsed the points he needed to say, trying to memorize enough of them so he would work them in regardless of wherever the conversation went. No battle plan survives contact with the enemy, they say. His heart twisted. This wasn't a battle. It was a conversation. He'd had enough of battles with those he.....cared about? Respected? He wasn't sure what to feel.

The Happy Huntresses had spoiled him with their friendship. It made this so much harder. 

They got within range, and gave the signal. The two guards at the front walked inside, then walked out. "We cuffed him and tied him to a bench, just in case."

"He didn't try to escape. There's a surprise." Joanna said.

"You don't know him like I do. He'll cooperate. Did you tell him who was coming to see him?" Marrow asked. The guards shook their heads. He looked at Joanna and she shrugged. Ugh. They weren't even inside and already his plan was falling to pieces.

What else was new?

One last straightening. One last check over. He avoided Joanna's eyes, because he knows they'd be full of sympathy and convince him to back out of this. He walked through the door, head held high. 

And then, abruptly, it all ceased to matter. 

Clover looked like he'd been through hell, bruises and cuts and ripped clothes and dirt all over. He started to say something, but when he saw Marrow, his entire face stilled in shock.

"I told you-Marrow? You're alive?"

Marrow almost didn't recognize Clover's voice. It was too soft, too unsure. 

"Yeah, Clover. I'm alive."

\--------

The interrogation went off the rails the moment it started. He was expecting Clover to challenge him right off, but Clover is preoccupied.

"Where are the others?" He was hopeful, and hesitant, and it's so unlike him. It seemed that the fall of Atlas broke them all.

"I don't know. The last time I saw them was the night of the fall. I tried looking for them afterwards but there was just too much. And too many people who didn't have Auras that needed help." He leaned against the wall, one foot up. It looked like they'd be here for a while.

Clover sighed, putting his head in his hands. "No. Of course not."

Marrow almost wanted to take off the cuffs and hold him. In the past, he would have immediately jammed it down as unprofessional. Now, it wasn't the professionalism that bothered him, but their past relationship. They weren't friends after all, even when they'd been Ace Ops together. And now they were, in a way, on opposite sides.

As though there were any sides in the kingdom of the dead. 

Now he just had to get Clover to see that.

Clover finally looked up, and frowned. He'd spotted the pin. "I can see you've reconsidered your loyalties."

"No, I haven't. I'm loyal to Atlas. Robyn's Atlas is the only one left." There it went. First point down. 

" _Robyn's_ Atlas?" Clover said, his voice deceptively level. Marrow had been on enough arrests and interrogation to know that was the tone he used when hiding his true emotions. _Shit. Shouldn't have used her first name._ "There's an awful lot of people running around claiming to be the _real_ Atlas. Why pick her?"

"Because she's not some petty criminal or selfish businessman. She's not looking to gain power or paying out goons to hoard supplies. She's actually trying to create a functional kingdom." Point and point. Damn. He was gonna run out of these fast and then he'd have to improvise, and he wasn't good at that. 

"Oh. I guess that explains why she keeps attacking Atlas military. Defending the borders of her new kingdom." Clover snarked, which surprised Marrow. When had he gotten sarcastic? Or at least, allowed himself to be sarcastic?

"Clover, there is no Atlas military. Everyone who survived the fall dedicated themselves to one warlord or another now. They're all the same, and they're all after the same thing. Seizing everything for themselves and letting people starve." Marrow didn't even bother to keep the disdain out of his voice. Why should he? These so-called Huntsmen had disgraced every oath they ever took. "Unless there's someone secretly controlling all the armies. It's not you, is it?"

Clover laughed, and for a second, it felt almost normal, casual. Like they could have been exchanging stories in the back of a supply truck rather then negotiating a truce in an abandoned warehouse. Not that _he'd_ ever had that privilege.

"No. I'm still looking for the General, or failing him, Winter. Either one of them should be enough to bring the army under control." Clover sat up a bit straighter, the military man taking over. "I only came here to see if you had him as a prisoner, but it seems that you don't have the resources to imprison anyone."

Marrow wondered for a brief moment if that was a threat, then shrugged. It was the truth. "Food and Dust are a bit higher on the list of priorities."

"I'm going to assume you're not going to just let me go, then?" Clover asked. His voice was level, but his face was resigned.

It took a second for Marrow to catch the implication, and it rankled him. He stepped forward, arms crossed, tail held high. "Yeah. As a matter of fact, we are. Right now, petty rivalries from the past a lot less important than guarding people from the Grimm and marauders."

Clover's eyes got a bit wider, then narrowed. Marrow assumed for a moment that he was gonna reflect back, but he didn't.

"I....don't think I've ever seen your tail do that. What does it mean?"

Marrow huffed in annoyance. "Guess." Then he paused, surprised by how harsh his voice was. Had he ever spoken to Clover that way? To anyone in the military?

This time, Clover didn't bother to conceal his surprise, or perhaps he couldn't. "What happened to you?"

Marrow was about to snap his answer, then reconsidered. He sighed, letting his arms fall. "Same thing that happened to everyone else, I guess."

Clover's mouth stretched in what anyone would else would have called a smile, but Marrow knew the way Clover smiled. "Fair enough."

They stayed that way in silence for a bit, not quite sure what to say or do next. Marrow ran through his remaining points and how to phrase them, but Clover was the one who broke the silence.

"I'm guessing there's no way I could convince you to come with me? You're the only other Ace Op left."

Was this just a symptom of trauma, Clover trying to hold onto whatever was familiar? He'd seen far too much of it, people refusing to leave their homes in the face of Grimm invasion, gathering close to others they barely even knew. Or did Clover really, rationally believe that this was the best course of action?

"No. Clover.....I'm needed here. _We're_ needed here. The General, Winter.....it's been too long, if they aren't dead then they aren't coming. We have to rely on ourselves now. The people need us more than ever." Final point. Now it was all on him. 

"I can't just leave James." Clover defended, grief creeping into his voice. "I can't. Even if he's dead, the least I can do is find him."

Marrow stepped forward again, looking him in the eyes, fighting down his own grief. "Clover.....you can't. There's too much to search, too many bodies left frozen. If we spent all our time mourning the dead, we'd just join him. We have a responsibility to the living."

Clover looked like he was about to cry, and it shook Marrow, badly. He'd once idolized Clover, tried to be like him. Living with the Huntresses, he'd learned a little better about Clover's flaws and the flaws of Atlas, and thought he'd come to terms with it all. But some part of him had been still hoping that Clover would be unbreakable. That he'd swoop in with the solution to all the terrifying new uncertainty in Marrow's life.

 _No silver bullets._ That was one of the unofficial mottos of the new Atlas. _No magical solutions that arrive wrapped in a bow and fix everything. Just hard work and hope._

Marrow straightened, unconsciously this time. "We could really use another Huntsman." He offered his hand to Clover, low enough so that he could take it even with his cuffed hands. "It's what we swore to do, remember? Protect the people."

Clover looked away, and now there was a faint sense of disdain, quickly covered. "I'll.....think on it."

Marrow took it back. At first he tried to hide his disappointment, but then he decided to let it show. Clover looked a bit guilty. 

Good. Guilt was what told you you were on the wrong path. Marrow had ignored his own for too long. He hoped Clover wouldn't make the same mistake.

"We're releasing you in the morning. We can't waste guards on you, and you aren't actively attacking anyone. If you want to join us, you can give your answer then. If you reconsider....well, you got yourself captured the first time." He tried to be formal and restrained. It failed. "Please, Clover. You said that the right decisions are the hardest to make? This is the hard decision. Leaving behind everything we know because people need us."

Clover looked up for the last time, and the disdain was gone. "You know, I was wondering what was wrong with you when you walked in. Now I get it. There was nothing wrong. Something has finally gone right. You belong here."

Marrow wasn't sure if that was meant as a condemnation or approval. He doubted Clover knew either. "You could belong here too."

Clover smiled genuinely this time. Sadly, but genuinely. "I've got other things to do."

Marrow wanted to scoff. Did nothing get through to him? But he didn't. He had to accept this, and move on, because that was the only thing left to them at this point. "And when those things are done?"

"I don't know. But I hope to see you again."

He wanted to beg him to stay, to have one more remnant of his past life. He didn't.

"Me too."

\--------

Joanna didn't talk to him the entire walk home, or when they heated up some leftover soup, or when they went to bed. It was only later that night, when he woke her for yet another patrol and they shivered in the cold, that she finally ventured a guess.

"So.....he's not gonna take the offer."

"No. At least, not now. But I think he knows he's doing something wrong, and he definitely knows he has a responsibility to the people here. He's just a bit...confused."

"Just hope he lives long enough to realize that."

"Yeah. I hope so too."

He couldn't rely on Clover, on anyone, to come galloping in and fix all their problems. But he wanted to believe that he could at least come around one day.

In the kingdom of the dead, hope is rare, and when you find it, it's probably going to be worn through, patched up, terrifyingly fragile. Nothing you could rely on.

But you had to believe in it. Or you joined the dead below the ice.

**Author's Note:**

> "silver bullet" is a metaphor for a simple, seemingly magical solution to a difficult problem. I figured it would fit here, because in the post-apocalypse, there are no shortcuts to rebuilding a nation. Especially not leaders who are just gonna come in, take over, and make everything better for you, as poor Marrow learns.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


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